“You want to study with me and that old hag at the same time? No, no. Study with anyone else, fine—but not her. She and I are mortal enemies. I won’t let my student cozy up to her!”

Fafnir sprang from her chair like a spark off hot iron, bracing a hand on Nidhogg as she roared. “That accursed crone would never allow you to train with me anyway. She’s a selfish witch!”

Still fuming, Fafnir bundled Lilith and Tartarus out of the dragon nest. The Red Dragon sighed, gave the Little White Dragon a helpless look, and led her up toward the higher star-gazing terrace.

“I’ve got no objections, but you need some Frost magic first. After that, you can follow your plan and study Death Magic and Stellar Magic together.” Lilith, scurrying away from Fafnir’s lair in defeat, found Asterios. The ancient Silver Dragon accepted her request. “As for Fafnir, I’ll help persuade her. When the first star climbs the sky tonight, I expect to see you on the terrace.”

“Thank you, Teacher Asterios.” Joy first, then motion—Lilith bowed, then sprang into Tartarus’s arms. “Mom, the teacher agreed!”

“Good, good.” Tartarus stroked her hair with tender claws, then breathed a soft, weary sigh. She glanced at the Silver Dragon. “Please take care of her.”

“I understand, Tartarus.” Asterios’s tone was solemn. “I swear by the stars—your child will come to no harm.”

“Mm. I believe you.” Tartarus crouched to meet Lilith’s eyes, hands warm on the girl’s shoulders. “Once you start, don’t grind yourself to dust. I want dragons and magic to feel bright and joyful to you, not endless days of wringing rest out of study, okay?”

“Mm!” Lilith nodded hard. Asterios’s smile was light as moonwash. “When evening comes, I’ll have Typhon bring you over. For now, go do something to pass the time.”

“Got it, Mom.”

——————

“So, Host, what exactly are you doing?” The System’s blue sprite drifted beside Lilith, watching the Little White Dragon and the witch’s phantom sketch tangled runes across a sheet of parchment. It couldn’t be bothered to translate and asked straight out.

“Learning Frost magic.” First the surge, then the plan—Lilith’s voice held crisp intent. “It hit me: human magic and dragon elemental magic are close in essence, even if depth and method differ. If Mona teaches me Frost, I can jump straight to Stellar.”

“Hold up. You want Mona’s skills—you can inherit them from fragments, right? Why make it hard on yourself?”

“Because I want to try learning it myself.” Lilith’s tone was light but firm. “I won’t be able to shortcut Stellar and Death Magic later. Better to warm up with Frost first.” She bent over the scroll Mona had penned for her. “Don’t distract me till time. I want Frost done, then start Stellar.”

“Fine, then good luck, Host.” The blue sprite popped up for one last peek, then dove back into Lilith’s body. If it were just elemental magic, Lilith could’ve learned from her directly—pity the Little White Dragon always prefers solving things herself.

“Mm.” Lilith answered, already deep in the scroll.

Night fell. The first star pricked the velvet dark, and a small Silver Dragon arrived with Lilith at the terrace gate. Asterios, for once, wasn’t in her iconic nun garb; she wore a witch’s robe, long sleeves whispering with a magic-touched sheen—exactly the picture of high fantasy Lilith loved.

“Teacher, where do we start?” Lilith stood at Asterios’s side. Rare for her, she’d pulled a spare nun dress from her pack—wanting to look proper, to leave a good first impression.

“I want to test your foundations. Do humans commonly teach Hero magic?” Asterios led Lilith to the center. A great altar rose there, as tall as two Liliths stacked, white marble breathing soft star-glow. Lilith’s gaze drifted like a moth to flame, but she answered cleanly.

“No. I learned some basic elemental magic from a traveling witch—enough to defend myself when needed.” Lilith lifted a hand. She recalled Mona’s guidance from the afternoon, and a white ice blossom bloomed in her palm.

“Like this is fine.”

“How large can you make ice?” Asterios leaned close, studying the blossom’s facets.

“If it needs shaping—maybe this wide?” Lilith measured, about shoulder-width. “If it’s just raw ice, I can extend several meters.”

“Can you attack with Frost?” Asterios patted her head, satisfied, and went on.

“Yes. I can lance ice spikes, or drop ice blocks.”

“That’s enough. Your casting carries too many human traits, but you don’t specialize in Frost. As a first step toward Stellar, this foundation will do.” Asterios brought her to a corner where a stone rack held scattered tools—a quiet workbench under star-shadow.

“First step to gazing the stars: you’ll need an Astrolabe.” She lifted her own staff. A sea-blue gemstone at the tip pulsed with tiny starlight. “Astrologers learn Frost first so they can craft a staff of their own.”

“Like mana, Star Energy is a unique force shed by the stars. Nature compresses it into sea-blue gems buried beneath riverbeds. But dragonkind, strongest under heaven, can draw Star Energy straight from the air and condense it to fit our will.” Asterios raised her left hand. White starlight circled her wrist; pure glow gathered in her palm. It flashed—and a sea-blue gemstone lay there, cool as deep water. “Dragon-forged gems carry their maker’s breath. Mount one on your Astrolabe, and you gain an edge observing the Star Canvas.”

“Since you know Frost casting, try condensing a sea-blue gem the way you shaped the ice blossom.” Asterios set the task gently. “Don’t worry. You have the whole night. I’ll be here.”

“Uh, okay.” Lilith nodded, lifted her right hand, and reached for the starshine around her.

It was harder than it looked. She couldn’t cleanly tell Star Energy from her magic—the two braided together like mist and wind. Each time she thought she’d gathered enough Star Energy and twisted it into a core, she ended up with an ice block.

Asterios offered the occasional nudge, but the gem had to be Lilith’s. It would sit in her Astrolabe; it needed her touch.

Thankfully, after a few attempts, Lilith caught the rhythm to separate magic from Star Energy. When the moon climbed to its highest perch, she finally condensed her own sea-blue gem.

“Whew. Finally—finally made it.” Exhaustion came first, then the slump. Lilith dropped to the floor, breath ragged. She’d never burned through mana so fast; muscles still, but body aching apart—an ugly kind of tired.

“Congratulations.” Asterios helped her sit up, tilted the Little White Dragon’s chin, and fed her a blue potion. “Even blessed by the stars, your speed surprised me. I thought it would take a day or two.”

“Heh-heh.” Praise bloomed; Lilith grinned dumbly. Asterios steadied her and moved to the workbench. “Next, we’ll craft your Astrolabe. No special technique—just feed it mana. How do you feel?”

Lilith had just downed the potion. Mana potions look the same everywhere, it seems. Her reserves felt bright and full. She could start.

“Good. Let’s begin.” Asterios set Lilith’s sea-blue gem on the bench. The stone table offered up a slab of white marble. She placed a black gemstone beside it, answering Lilith’s puzzled look.

“An Astrolabe has three parts: the sea-blue gem at the head, the marble shaft, and the mana gem at the tail. Most Astrologers use an ice-element gem for the tail, but you’ve got a better option.”

“What is it?”

“Remember Tiamat’s flame? Fafnir condensed it into a gem. It’ll fit your Astrolabe perfectly. With it, you won’t need another staff when you study Death Magic.”

“So convenient. Let’s start!”